The Kit Kat Bar
by ilovetvalot
Summary: When Emily demands Rossi keep their relationship low key, he obliges...in the extreme. Written for the Candyland Challenge on Chit Chat on Author's Corner


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_**This story was written for the candyland challenge for "Chit Chat on Author's Corner" as a pinchhit for Morganxlife4. Prompts were Rossi/Emily and a Kit Kat Bar. I hope you like it.**_

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**The Kit Kat Bar**

Glancing around the establishment he'd chosen per Emily Prentiss' instruction, David Rossi smiled arrogantly. Recalling her directives that their first date occur in a place in which there was absolutely no possibility of running into any of their colleagues, he once more felt that familiar irritation rising within him.

Fine. If she wanted him to be her dirty little secret, he'd certainly play the part.

It hadn't taken him long to find the seedy little bar in mid-town. And, per her request, there was no chance that any of their co-workers would stumble into this place - at least not without insisting on a tetanus shot first. Not even Derek Morgan would willingly follow any one of his so-called honeys through the grimy glass door.

Yes, the Kit Kat Bar was going to make his point. In Technicolor.

And he couldn't wait to see the lithe raven haired beauty's reaction.

**/***/**

Standing outside in front of the garish purple neon flashing sign to the Kit Kat Bar, Emily Prentiss grimaced. Shaking her head as she watched a couple of bikers stumble out the door of the tavern, she reminded herself that the man she'd finally agreed to see in an intimate public situation was simply following her instructions.

But, did he have to take her quite so literally?

When she'd told him to pick a secluded location where there'd be no chance of being seen, she hadn't thought he'd find the tackiest place in Virginia for their first date. She'd known her request had angered him. And she should have known that he'd choose to make a statement in his own trademark dramatic fashion.

As usual, he'd accomplished his mission.

She'd received his message loud and clear. And to borrow a phrase from one of her favorite movies: Nobody put baby...or David Rossi… in a corner.

**/***/**

"Well, hello Emily," Dave smirked as he watched his disgusted date approach the scarred table in the back corner of the bar. "I'm glad to see that you found the place since you refused to ride with me."

Narrowing her eyes on the cocky profiler in front of her, Emily snorted. "You know, you've made your point," she said tightly, gesturing around, her hand waving wildly

"My point?" Dave asked innocently, arching one brow. "I don't know what you're talking about. I believe this place meets all of your stated requirements. After all, I seriously doubt that any of our mutual friends will find a way to drift this direction."

"Dave, Mad Max would venture in this joint if Thunderdome was on fire!" Emily snapped, crossing her arms tightly over her chest.

Casually reaching for a peanut from the dish in the center of the table, Dave shelled it with nimble fingers, tossing the hull over his shoulder on the dirty floor. "What? I thought this was exactly what you wanted, Prentiss. Heck, I even picked us a table in the back of the bar," he pointed out magnanimously. "Sit down," he said, nodding to the mismatched chair across the table from him. "Let me buy you a drink."

"Fine," Emily huffed, pulling out her chair with two fingers and looking suspiciously at the seat before she sat down. "I'll have a whiskey sour."

"Oh, sorry," Dave grinned, shaking his head in mock apology. "Your options are draft or longneck. Sorry, babe, but your options are limited. Much like mine were," he added with just a hint of sarcasm.

"Smartass," Emily muttered. "Longneck then...I don't particularly want to put my lips on any glass this joint has anyway."

"Snob," Dave snorted, rising from the table before she could issue a scathing retort.

Five minutes later, Emily toyed with the longneck bottle Dave placed in front of her as he slipped back into his own seat. Glancing up at him, Emily pursed her lips as she looked around the dimly lit, smoky bar. Wrinkling her nose, she murmured, "I thought smoking inside bars and restaurants was illegal now," she complained, frowning at the duo of tough guys shooting a game of pool behind Dave's chair.

"It is. But, this is a private establishment. Different rules," Dave shrugged, leaning back in his rickety seat as he took a long pull from the brown bottle.

"Wait a second," Emily said, leaning forward to see Dave's face through the smoky haze. "What do you mean by private?"

"I mean that I had to buy a membership to patronize this fine establishment," Dave explained easily.

"You paid for the privilege of sitting in this rattrap?" Emily gaped, her hands slamming against the table. "Like a membership fee?"

"Yep," Dave nodded. "You wanted secluded...and how much more could you ask for than a club where you actually have to be a member to get in...it'll come in handy, don't you think?"

Inhaling slowly, Emily immediately regretted that involuntary response, the acrid smell of cigarette smoke and unwashed male assaulting her nostrils. Fighting the urge to gag, Emily ground out, her jaw clenching, "You've made your point, Dave."

"What point?" Dave asked simply, his eyes wide as he attempted to perfect a guiltless expression.

"You're going to make me say it, aren't you?" Emily replied bitterly as she tightened her grip on her bottle of beer, making a face as a burly guy jostled her chair from behind.

"Say what?" Dave drawled, reaching for another peanut.

"Okay, Dave. You win. I am suitably chastised for attempting to derail your first date plans. I shouldn't have made any stipulations regarding the time we spent together and I should have trusted you to have my...OUR.. best interests at heart. Happy now?" she asked, shuddering as a heavily made-up woman planted an openly carnal kiss on one of the men playing pool.

Smirking as he watched a look of pure revulsion blanket Emily's face as a bar fight broke out behind them, Dave offered her a satisfied nod. "Much better," he chuckled. "Now, would you care to accompany me to the Bistro Francais? I've reserved us an intimate table in the back of the restaurant where I've been assured that we'll remain undisturbed."

"Now, that sounds like a date," Emily beamed approvingly, quickly jumping to her feet and grabbing the hand he extended toward her.

"I thought you'd see things my way," Dave smirked, pulling the beautiful woman toward the exit.

And as she allowed herself to be tugged along in the determined man's wake, somehow Emily knew that this was only the first of many skirmishes between them.

And she looked forward to each one.

_**Finis**_


End file.
